A Painful Tooth

Recently, I visited my dentist to consult her about my painful tooth which she had fixed almost a year ago. She had checked it and later told me that it must be pulled out at once. No chance to fix the tooth. Years before, I used to fear dentists because of tormenting experiences I had with them. But this time I was calm, trusting the anesthetics she will be using to numb the whole procedure. She began preparing all her stuff. She applied a little amount of strawberry-flavored, balm-like substance on the surrounding gum of my tooth. Minutes later, it felt like something inflated my gum. I was assured that I would be OK. I then saw her loading a long metallic syringe with a vial of anesthetic, this time to inject it on my numbed gum and to the deep areas around the tooth itself. No pain, just a bit of friction of the crooked needle against the gum. I was confident that the tooth extraction would be done in no time.

She started using her dental instruments (which look like expensive screw drivers), lifting the tooth on the area it is embedded. At first, I felt feeble twinges as she thrust the instrument. But the pain became intense bit by bit. So, when the instrument thrust deeper to the root area, I breathed hard, since the pain was increasingly agonizing. I tried to feel the pain that moment. It was like there's a long metallic thing boring its way to the deep-hidden, throbbing nerve. My thoughts went back to what I have seen in movies, with people being tortured to tell the truth. I recalled my meditation retreat, where I used to face all the pains in my body, may it be itching, back pain, headache and spasms in the leg. I tried my best to remain mindful of the pain, without mentally suffering. I strongly gripped on the arms of the dental chair, while my legs writhed like they were strangled big pythons. I breathed in my mouth; it sounded like breathing in a scuba regulator. The dental assistant held my face with both hands, to keep it steady. It became much harder to breathe because my dentist was pushing her thumb against my tongue, so to keep my mouth open. She was using instruments alternately; she next used the stainless steel forceps. Its metallic coldness tried to clutch on my stubborn tooth, as she worked out to pull it at once, but to no avail. Since I could not hold it any longer, I asked her for a break, so I could breathe a little.

The pain was excruciating as if I was in a torture chamber. I reassured myself, so I could easily keep my suffering thoughts at bay. I reminded myself of 2 of the most important mental discipline: awareness and equanimity. Always mindful, yet not reacting. But the pain was somehow unbearable. With the pain and thoughts pulsating together, I wondered what if I could not last? What if I just quit and maybe to continue this the next time around? But I also thought that, since the tooth had been slightly lifted, delaying the procedure might cause grave infection, which would worsen the pain. My dentist repeatedly injected again anesthetics. She was a close friend, and in someways she had found it painful to see my face grimacing jarringly. I regained my composure, this time to think beyond the pain: I imagined the bloody tooth right in front of me, pulled out and freed at last. So the next round of agony set in. And the same cyclic experience happened again.

It took us 2 hours before the whole procedure, or shall I say, the whole agony ended. I didn't even notice that the tooth was pulled out after my dentist did some measures as her last resort. Shortly before it ended, my eyes were half-closed. I was deeply engrossed with that pain, while I saw those dental instruments flashed like windshield wipers as my dentist plunged them on my mouth. She told me she was caught off-guard; she didn't expect that the roots of my tooth were attached to a bone, and they were hook-shaped that makes them more locked in the gum. I asked her to show me the tooth; so I began to ponder that this "pesky" little thing had led me to a spiritual insight.

The tooth is a symbol of this internal anguish, of these emotions we long to let go, yet unable to do so. We have been undergoing this kind of mental and emotional extraction. We are trying to pull out those painful emotions, judgments, thoughts and objections all anchored solidly in our hearts. They are unyielding and troublesome. And the more we pull them out, the stronger they become. All these agonies remind us of those past demons we want to exorcise. We numb ourselves using the common anesthetics, things that we can easily refocus just to escape the pain: watching TV, surfing internet, reading books, hanging out with our barkadas, eating, shopping, playing games, working straight, smoking, drinking, making love, abusing drugs and many others. But still pain is lingering, growing with such ferocious intensity. We have resorted to a sundry of "instruments" to purge out these unwanted feelings and thoughts. We have prayed incessantly, we have sought other people's opinion and advice, we have worked out ways from normal to paranormal, and yes, to no avail. Quitting becomes the only option left, while we spend some time pausing, then waiting, to let a miracle happen. We have allowed ourselves sometime to figure out the whole story of our lives. When we feel pain again, the same cycle happens.

But this painful extraction allows us to see ourselves in the moment of awakening. This is the passion where great wisdom is waiting to be born. Kahlil Gibran wrote it beautifully: Pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. When extraction sets in, we are now given this tremendous opportunity to get in touch with our pains. This is the pain of the tooth. Or rather, the pain of the TRUTH. Once we begin to patiently accept and embrace these intolerable pains, we will eventually learn that the cause of the pain is just a small, pesky little thing, not some colossal, obnoxious monster. Toothache and tooth extraction are both common things that we experience one way or the other. Once pulled out, there is only the feeling of painless freedom left. In the same manner, only the awareness of Love will remain. We can smile again and leave the pain as a wisp of impermanent past. Because of this insightful experience, I am glad to say that a painful tooth can set us free.

Wisdom of Fools

There is a world only reserved for some people walking in the streets. They are not ordinary people since they are often alienated because of how they look and behave. Their tattered clothes sometimes cover their greasy bodies, their faces smeared with dust and grime. They often sit on sidewalks, or sometimes walk naked, and they have nowhere else to go. They might stop in a garbage bin, diving on hodgepodge of rotting food and wet plastics and cartons, so they can find something to eat. They sometimes sit down at public parks, talking animatedly to an imaginary friend, as if in a fierce argument over some important life's issues; one can understand what they say, but remains meaningless stream of words and phrases. Most of us judge them as "psychotics" without any notion of their stories; once in their lives they were good fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends. Yet, they went beyond their sanity point, where the thresholds of their emotional and mental pains exploded as they enter the world they created as their own.

We avoid them at all cost, since we fear that the soul they bear mirrors our own.

There is always a taong grasa within us. We reserve our exclusive world where no one can enter. We feel indifferent and aloof, the same way we think the world of the sane does to us. We feel paranoid of how people judge the way we look and behave. We wear clothes to make others like us, while our inner selves are tattered with judgments of our ugliness. We stop over the garbages of this life that distract us: from making money, to gaining power and fame, to collecting things, to pleasing people and ourselves, all for the sake of surviving, for satisfying our hungry souls. We argue with people, blame them for their inadequacies, not knowing that what we say against others are all truths about ourselves; we are in an imaginary power play with God who we think has the only control on our lives, yet wondering why he or she doesn't reward us but continue to punish us. We find ourselves lunatics, without seeing first the light of our true selves; that as we blind ourselves in facing our shadows, we forget to see the infinite light within us.

We are fools who choose to be a lone castaway in the islands of our escape. We are fools who continue to starve from attention and sustenance of this world, and as we become distant, we deepen our fiery desire to be in touch again with others. We are fools trying to make sense of our true purpose, unable to move through turbulent changes of our lives. We are fools sharing the foolishness of this world, believing in the lies that we think are absolute truths. We are fools who have forsaken and forgotten the most important truth in our lives. We are fools looking for the sanest understanding of the true nature of Love.


Love is the wisdom of fools, yet the wisest knowledge their hearts ever learned.

Our eagerness to transcend our foolishness might still sound foolishness, nonetheless. But its the sheer transcendence from fear to Love that we begin to see ourselves saner, rising above this foolish world. The process transforms us, as if we reserve our world revolving in Love. We are extraordinary people because we look and behave in a way of how Love manifest from our inside out. We wear clothes of honesty, sometimes tattered by the world's prying eyes, yet remain lovely and beautiful. We no more mind of how we appear, because we are no more identified by how the world judges us. We stop over the garbages of this life, and see them as blessings that we can bury, so they can enrich the soil from where the garden of Love can flourish. We now speak to all beings, seen and unseen, and beckon the presence of Love within all of us; we trust that even we might sound gibberish, the Love's message resonates to the hearts of every being, no matter how many of them refuse to understand. We now see beyond the myths of our projected selves woven from others' judgments we are made to believe. We are now unique beings, from where Love freely expresses itself. And we now widen our thresholds into boundless distances, the only breadth where Love can be contained.

Presence of Heart

Some teachers I have met are hesitant on telling about their profession, probably because teaching is a low-paying job having insurmountable mental and financial ordeals. Others who majored in education have already abandoned their former profession, as they bear so much disgust in teaching. Some are more than proud of what they do, for they both play the roles of teachers and mothers among their students, most of whom are neglected at their homes. This rich variety of teachers have taught me about my own desire to teach. I have realized that I am both a teacher and a student, and in living the life of teaching, the path has more to teach me than what I can.

As a former student, I hated some of my teachers, to the extent that I promised myself not to become like them. That promise was somehow prophetic, because I was then steering my own journey to the world of teaching. I thought that one day I would see myself as a teacher looking forward to the welfare of my student; a welfare not just about what they learn from the class, but the welfare of how they learn them, which includes the joy, harmony and friendship brimming inside the classroom. Because of this, the teachers I used to abhor somehow taught me the greatest lesson I would ever be grateful forever: never just teach the lessons of the mind; always teach the lessons of the heart.

Dr. Leo Buscaglia, an Italian-American psychologist, is one of my greatest inspirations for the Communes. He became the foremost leader on teaching Love. In his book Living, Loving and Learning, he quotes the educator Leonard Silberman on his conclusion on the current education. That is, our education system succeeds in teaching students reading, writing and arithmetic, but fails in teaching them to become human beings. This reality has pushed one of Buscaglia's female student to become bright and brainy, only to end up killing herself. The tragedy ignited Buscaglia's desire to create and teach the Love Class, a free class that welcomes all students to explore the experience and meaning of Love.

I have been also asking the same question on why students learn a lot of things that turns out to be less practical in living one's life. It is common for a student to hate studying, since teachers and parents force them to get good grades, let alone to pass . I had learned algebra and trigonometry but I can't possibly use them to calculate my groceries. I had learned world history and literature, but they are less important to the story of my soul. Now as a teacher, I am oftentimes bothered by the fact that I have to teach the subject efficiently, to have the presence of mind; otherwise, I would lose the confidence of my students and eventually they might not learn at all. But in the 2-year process of continuous discovery, I have found out that more than the importance of the subject, it is the essence. If my students find laughter, joy, kindness, and surprise in each lesson we spend together, it is enough for them to get in touch with true essence of learning. They are not just developing the presence of mind, but the presence of heart.

I was then looking for any possibility on how to expand this new insight, presence of heart. After I heard one of my student saying the phrase "presence of mind," the word heart immediately replaced the word mind in my thoughts. I stopped wrestling with my faculties and trusted that the answer will come. And it did. It was no accident when I met Lolo Celes, a retired university professor, and homemaker Ms. Bel in the place of my solitude at the Makiling Botanic Gardens. Our small talk on life and Love became the synchronistic 20th Commune.

Lolo Celes, in his 9 decades of life, is enthusiasm in the flesh. He has condensed his teaching experiences into a soul-stirring insight. He echoed what Buscaglia wrote and what Silberman concluded, that as a teacher, one must begin teaching students to learn not just the subject matter, but to become human beings. "You must develop human beings to become part of the Creation. Creation is always a continuous process. If you teach them knowledge and skills, you must teach them greatly on the attitude, for it is the most important." He has empowered me with these simple words, which made me more confident in spreading the message of Love through the Communes.

One of the most quoted oriental proverb is this: "If the student is ready, the teacher will come." I'm still quite uncertain of the origins of this quote, but the last time I read this was from a book on I Ching, known as the Book of Changes, which contains 64 hexagrams used as a very unique Chinese oracle. At the time when I did some meditation for a particular hexagram, it turned out that the hexagram 8 bears the word "teacher," and states the same proverb. It bolted my insight into confirmation of my spiritual path: teaching. And just as I write this, I have learned that the same hexagram bears a timeless symbolism; hexagram 8 means "holding together," two words that sum up the meaning of the Communes. The soul of the student in me has become ready to learn, the time when the soul of the teacher within me has begun to teach. It is a wisdom that I am teaching no one but myself, and in the process, every person I meet, especially in the Communes, learns. Communing with each other is such an amazing way to learn Love, when each of us bares our own preconceptions, misunderstandings and innate knowing, and enables us to teach each other in the deepest presence of our hearts.

The Language of Love

I don't know much about postmodern stuff, but there's one thing I couldn't forget every time I hear that word. In a very homey Master's degree class, I was listening to my friend's professor who talked about a postmodern experience. He was on a bus ride in a busy city road in U.K. Onboard were all foreigners, speaking different languages. I can't remember much about what those languages are. Using a pinch of imagination, I can see speakers of maybe Hindi and Russian seated near the driver, and Italian and Mandarin at the back of the bus, while near the bus door were a couple of guys maybe speaking in Swahili, and of course, this young Filipino professor who might had a kababayan as a companion that moment. This is the most ironic part: no one speaks English, on a bus ride in a land where the English language was born. Such experience, according to this professor, is complex and difficult to describe. The lines that label and define our day to day lives are blurring, and expected outcomes become unexpected. He said this is a fitting example of a postmodern experience.

This multilingual bus ride is not anymore exclusive in cosmopolitan nations. I've had a similar situation some months ago. I was in an ESL (English as Second Language) class of about 10 students, four of them were Koreans, the rest were Filipinos. During breaks, Koreans would animatedly talk to each other in their language, while the group of Filipinos would watch them merrily, trying to decode their expressions through body language. I tried to imagine how both speakers of different language wonder on each others' way of understanding. What if I am a speaker of different language, how does Filipino language sound to me? Would it be strange? Would I be more curious? Certainly, I don't know. Nonetheless, every time I talk to a Korean friend, I am thankful that we can understand each other through English. Knowing that we are non-native speakers of English, it is a blessing that we have a medium where we can meet half way. We both translate our meanings so we can connect and share our human experiences.

Although the world is in convergence today, there is still a tower of Babel that crumbles before us, causing this incomprehensible language barrier. This barrier is an overwhelming debris of information overload coming from multitude of thoughts, each claiming as the main source on the nature of truth. Words become earsplitting noises, drowning out the silence that born from the truth within us. Spawned from these noises are questions that could short-circuit our sanity. A friend once fired me the same string of 'why' questions, such as why are there great opposites, why religions are different, why are there few rich and many poor people, why some people are saved and others are not, why are we here, why do we live, why do we suffer, why God doesn't show up, why evil exist, why is it hard to Love. Many established systems of thoughts and traditions have tried to provide answers using their specified forms of "language" then eventually labeled them as absolute truths. Apparently, easing the confusion has caused more mayhem than meaning.

There may be thousands of these languages, yet the very soul of their meanings has its lingua franca: Love. It is the language that speaks in many names and words, but, as Lao Tzu put it, cannot ever be named. Love translates hazy jargon into sensible insights. Religions founded in different doctrines speak the same essence of Love. Christianity calls it the Agape or Golden Rule, Buddhism calls it Metta or Intentions of Loving-kindness, Hinduism calls it Ahimsa or Nonviolence. Science has been using formulations and algorithms to lay down discoveries, attesting on the existence of invisible intelligence, the substance of the unseen Love. Love is Entanglement among quantum physicists; while many doctors, educators, psychologists, philosophers, state leaders and business magnates have proven the power of Love through prayers and healthy relationships with oneself and others.

These dimensions of our lives speaking different languages may have been speaking the same truth. We might not understand the language of each other, but so long as Love is inherent in each word, in each concept, we would remain deeply in touch even before we speak. Our desire to express this core of Love leads us to listen to its voice, reverberating across our inner, collective, cosmic consciousness. Today, the world is now listening to gifted, celebrated thinkers and luminaries, who are deeply moved by the realization of Love. As we listen, conflicting languages begin to make sense, because we can now translate them into Love as their singular underlying meaning. In turn, we as audience are tapping into our own power of speaking in tongues, where nothing but the spirit of Love can speak wisdom through us.

Solitude

Be still and know that I am God
--Book of Psalms


A lot of us are seeking to be alone, perhaps because of emotional crises we would like to shed out. We want to be alone to escape, and stay in the dreamy world of aloneness, flooded by our own tears and battered by our own pains. We want to be alone to have time to shout in silence our pleas to God, wondering where He is and if He is really listening. In our turning points we somehow feel that the world is in our shoulders, as we desire to be dumped into our graves. We want to be alone because it is the best way to come to our senses, or maybe to lose our senses all the way. We want people who are closed to our hearts to pity for us. And we are in this quiet suffering, clueless of the next step to do, more fearful of trying to move on.

Sometimes, we need to see beyond. Being alone the way we are used to can be transformed into a moment of contemplation. These deep sufferings cannot be just thrown away. Embracing these pains in silence is the best way to let them go. Rather than seeing oneself alone in this abyssmal emptiness, let a time for solitude allow us to transcend our loneliness.

I am always at ease in solitude. As young as ten, I was a weird boy who loves to hang around in the bushy garden at the back of the church. Once, my browbeating teacher sent me to principal's office after they had found out that I crossed the school wall, where the other side is a ravine leading to the river. Every summer at home is perfect when I was a high school student; I would sit on a broad, sturdy branch of our backyard mango tree while listening to the rustling bamboo leaves nearby. During full moons, I would climb up over our rooftop so I could stare at the moon for several minutes. Some years ago, I went to a well-known public park in Tagaytay with just a pen and paper to write a poem, then watched the clouds adrift over Taal lake and volcano. Whenever I go to the beach with some acquaintances and friends, I prefer to sit on the seashore away from the crowd, watching the waves glistening on sunset or sunrise.

This preference of solitude, I believe, has greatly helped me to survive through many lonely years. In solitude I am not just alone praying and pleading to an unseen force. I have learned to listen to silence; this very silence hushed by raucous noises of our busy lives. It seems paradoxical when in silence I often hear the voice of the Divine, whispering softly in my heart. This is more than just being alone. I would cry for a while, but as tears dry up, peace springs forth. Years have passed and now I have learned through meditative experience that solitude is possible wherever I go. For the solitude within the depths of my being are always in harmony with the ultimate truth of Love.

Just this morning, I was walking on a trail, going down to the creek in a park at the foot of Mount Makiling. As I walked alone, I could only hear the sound of forest crickets singing high-pitched tones in chorus, along with some rare cries from wild birds. A small black-spotted white butterfly (whose wings like the Yang symbol) welcomed me with its gentle wings flapping as it flew towards where I stand. As I reached the creek, I jumped over small and medium sized rocks, some of which are wrapped in green mosses. Then I chose a flat boulder, where I sat down cross-legged. I looked above and saw trees and their towering canopy; occasionally, they were dropping dried leaves like oversized confetti spiraling until they reach the river. Later, I focused my attention to where the water flows. While watching the small cascade of white, foamy water, I paid attention to its soothing sound; I felt it washes my erratic thoughts just as its sound continuously gushes in my ears. All sounds I heard were like coming from a single orchestra, whose music penetrates deep down to my soul. I was the only witness to this phenomenon. My consciousness was graciously energized.

I immersed myself to the wonder of this moment, when no one but me and Nature are in this peaceful encounter. I was again in solitude, not for the reason of being alone, but to be "all One" with silence, to be all One with Love.

Lightsphere

I was standing in an empty street in a town one June night four years ago, naively looking for a jeepney ride. As I look around, a couple of teenage boys went straight ahead where I was standing. In a flash, one of them hit me on my temple, but it was lesser than a blow. It felt just like someone tapped me, since the boy's fist went simultaneously as I bent my head down to avoid the hit. I ran quickly to avoid them, then stopped a few meters away. I saw them running back, calling for "back-up." I was thinking of going after them, but the big driver who witnessed the incident, told me otherwise. Inside my chest, my heart was beating like a large kettledrum, yet along with it was a different calmness I had never felt until that time. I was fearful yet contemplating, and it was a very strange experience.

Thoughts ran in my mind, since fright, anger and calmness were all mixed up in my blood. I recalled then my interest in martial arts, and somehow dreamed to become a deadly street fighter. At the same time, I remembered Rizal's virtue of being a pacifist, and I still wanted to be always at peace. Since the incident, I had always felt upset of going home late at night, fearing that someone would hit me. I became cynical, and I found faces of disheveled strangers lined with evil intentions. I had tried to warm up my reptilian instincts to get ready for any attack that I might come across. At home, I had been disturbed by thoughts of violence, particularly when I heard news and watched movies with violent themes. And at one point in my life, with so-called "deep-seated anger," I just thought that my dangerous shadow was ruthless and murderous, just waiting to be unleashed.

Truly, it is always darkest before dawn.

In the movie "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring," the most unforgettable scene for me is when the Fellowship entered Moria, a dark, underground lair of dwarves now garrisoned by vicious Orcs. The wizard Gandalf used his staff as a luminous torch, where the light comes from a crystal atop to light their path. In the later part of the scene, Gandalf confronted the gigantic, fiery demon Balrog. Gandalf raised his staff and a strong sphere of radiant white light glowed around him. The light became his powerful shield against Balrog's sword. The fight was reminiscent of David and Goliath, it inspired me a very eccentric practice.

About 3 years ago when I started this imaginative practice. I haven't named it since, but now allow me to call it the Lightsphere. The Lightsphere is my protective light that I extend every time I go home in the wee hours. I can't anymore recall how it started, but somehow extending light help a lot in my safety on my way home. One night on a jeepney ride, I recalled riding with three scruffy men. I might be so judgmental then, but I felt the fear and found them suspicious. Still with fear beating wildly in my chest, I began to establish the Lightsphere. Minutes later, they dropped off, as if disappointed. I still didn't know what they had in mind, but I realized the more I cynically judge people, the more I expect danger to come my way. The Lightsphere has changed my thoughts, and it has been intensified through my meditations of Metta or Loving-kindness.

Charging myself with Lightsphere, I have been able to refine my thoughts about the evil in this society. While wishing myself unharmed, I wish the people who might be nursing the idea to harm not to continue their plans. At first, I thought I was just thinking of my own safety, but in the process, it is not just about me. As I wish freedom from any harm, I have learned now to intend happiness for those who are bedeviled by evil thoughts. It dawned on me that as I intend Love for those people, they would likely to let go of harming others, for once they harm they cannot be happy. At nighttime when my friends and I part our ways, I still feel that speck of fear. Yet my intentions of happiness, safety and Love for them extends to the strangers they meet on the streets; it is then I realize that the Lightsphere I imagine they have would envelope them in blessings and lighten the hearts of every person they encounter.

Just two weeks ago, an incident happened on the road near our office. It was just around 4:00 p.m., and gunshots snapped the usual busy, noisy street. A woman was shot dead inside her car, while the shooter went in a motorbike together with an accomplice. The shooter reportedly stolen cold cash worth 2 million pesos. I felt a surge of fear that time, but when I saw the perp running away a surge of calm flowed as well. My boss was standing next to me, teary-eyed and angered as she blurted, "Why men are so evil?" The very moment reminded me of what went on my thoughts and I was deeply grateful of what I had discovered. Men are not evil. People who do evil are still in the process of discovering the Love within. Evil is just absence of Love, as Gary Zukav said. We must begin to send blessings, not just to the victim, but also to the perps. Forgive them Father, for they do not know what they are doing. What happened was palpable evil, but eventually it brought me to profound awareness of Love. It was the very chance of the Lightsphere to manifest into thoughts and words.

As I write this, I checked again my journal entry about the hitting incident. A personal statement just struck me: Do not think of revenge...violence begets violence, peace begets peace. Learning this, I recalled how my deepest convictions on peace began ever since. This statement somehow inspired the Lightsphere and its current mantra:

I am peace wherever I go. Wherever I am, I bring peace.

Empathy: the Heart of the Call Flow

Inside this massive industry known as call centers, I was then an insignificant entry-level agent three years ago, seated in front of a workstation, complete with headset, phone and a personal computer. I was part of this global network where Caucasian customers are busy on their lives on the daytime side of the world, while this nighttime side made an employee like me wide awake just to earn good money. I was taught to sound confidently for every call I take, to read my spiels impeccably, and to deny that I am someone far from my customer's skin color, or that I stand on a piece of this earth far away from their enormous continent. I was taught to toughen my onion skin, while being violently darted with a rich spectrum of insults, from irate shouts to ruthless badmouthing. Learning these things allowed my attitude toward people to mutate, and I began seeing each call a potential sale, and forgot that I am talking to a human being and not to credit cards or wallets with hefty cash. Worse, my experience then unleashed some little monsters within me, causing them to inspire me of getting even with customers who refuse to buy, who curse me or those who waste my time. It did not matter, since at the end of the long wait for the 15th and 30th, a 5-digit salary blinking in an ATM display was a blissful reward.

After 6 months and a sure, stable job, I resigned. And I have begun practicing my conviction that whoever needs this kind of job, I will help them surpass the nightmares and stay sane and humane in a this mechanistic world of call centers.



I designed a diagram which universally adapts all call handling processes many call centers utilize. I called it the Call Flow. It follows a step by step process that happens in each call. Say, every call starts from an introduction, where an agent introduces himself and his company, then warmly greets the caller. This is followed by either asking the customer's personal information or immediate concern . As with personal information, the agent must verify how the customer's name is pronounced and spelled. While asking concern entails the mastery of probing: asking series of open-ended questions, (starting with who, what, when, where, why and how) and close-ended (answerable by yes or no). Probing helps the agent to take the big picture of the caller's need. At times, agent needs to put the customer on hold or maybe to transfer her to another department. The agent must provide reasonable explanation for this particular action. After the whole process, the agent must end the call properly, with the same warmth all throughout the call.

Ask a call center agent about these steps, and they will agree that these are unmistakably part of their every night routine. A call must be professionally handled, with graceful demeanor and with unwavering niceness, otherwise any ill-mannered behavior is a a surest way to lose the job . But then, even if every agent is taught of being nice to their callers and avoid being rude so one can make a sale or have good reputation, there is still a missing piece. It's called empathy and its a way far from just fitting someone else shoes.

Literally, the word empathy means passion, but it has evolved since then. The word is more synonymous to compassion, or feeling the pain of another. Now, this is more than fitting the shoes; it's about sharing the same painful sore ankles and toes while wearing those shoes. It's about the same feeling you and the other both experienced, regardless of what the shoes are made of. And its about the freedom when both of you remove those shoes and choose to be barefoot instead.

In two years I have had students who eyed call center jobs. Aside from giving them the tricks of the trade, I strongly reiterated this very lesson once they enter the world of calls: always empathize. Put empathy as the heart of every call. See that every caller empowers you more to be patient, to be caring, to be compassionate. A caller might be the rudest person on Earth, but never be blinded by what the person does or says. A situation like this calls for an agent to intend Loving-kindness for someone whose world has quarantined by the belief that no one is concerned. Let a gentle voice, a firm tone, a friendly word and a Loving thought enrich each call. It humbly reminds of our own human need, which is for another human to feel our deepest need for Love.

It's very easy to get lost in a call, say, a customer who shouts offensive words, or insults you of different sorts, and find yourself reacting crabbily against. This story is a common story, and has fired many agents since. For some, this story has frozen their spirits and fueled their tempers, and they have perpetuated the culture that "your enemy is on the other line." I would admit that throughout my call center days, I had an ample share of impolite acts, like rising the tone of my voice, pushing the mute button and curse the caller, putting the customers on hold until they hang up or transferring a rude customer to a Spanish-speaking agent . All of these are bad acts that have allowed me to transform my grudges against my former job into deep gratitude of hard lessons learned. Being a call center agent had printed huge numbers on my pay slips, and left more ineradicable impressions of Love in my heart.

This is why I deeply value the role of call centers in our society. In this increasingly complex world where people are wired through different means of communication, there is a growing need to talk, to share, to ask and to connect. I am led to believe that call centers are growing not because of market demands that companies create, but perhaps this abysmal need to express deepest intricacies of one's soul. Understanding this reality, I remembered the call handling technique of a very good friend who majored in Nursing. Before signing a contract, she was asked during her interview after a mock call on how she suavely managed an irate customer (which her interviewer acted). Prior to job, she was virtually clueless of anything about the industry, since she was a nurse. Her shrewd answer referred to her vivid experiences in mental institutions, and an irate call is just like a conversation with a mental patient. She did not know what call center is, nor she knew about selling and customer service. But she learned a great deal of listening, caring and being compassionate to her patients. She's still a call center agent, and for each call she handles, she has found her heart growing with more empathy for callers who might be just needing someone with the heart to listen.

Taking calls every shift sounds like a boring routine at one end and quarrelsome at the other. Let it be, for every call an agent takes, whether it's simple or difficult, is a call for the heart to Love more. We will never stop on just doing the business alone; we will become someone who inspires Love in a job that originally aimed to listen and to care.

Kaleidoscope

As a young kid, I was always fascinated with science projects that involve many kinds of experiments. So when our school declared a competition on best scientific inventions (which of course are simple but useful devices), I decided to join and try my luck. As I remember it, there were perhaps five students who joined and submitted their projects for the exhibit. Most of their designs were made of battery-powered trinkets and scraps with dynamos and gears. Mine was a little weird; it didn't conform to any expected robotics and mechanization. I chose optics instead. Although there was no direct use for my "invention," I still took the risk, still expected that I would win. Unfortunately I didn't. Yet, fortunately, that project has brought me to a larger appreciation of this ever-moving, ever-colorful life. My invention then is called the Kaleidoscope.

I first encountered this word on my encyclopedia, and found there instructions on how to make one. Excited, I went to the nearest glass store in town and bought some little scraps of mirror and asked the glass workers to cut it in a foot's length. I used three mirror sheets, electric taped them together to form a triangular scope. Since my kaleidoscope was crude, I was not able to create a knob at the end of it where colorful patterns can revolve. Instead, I created patterns from art papers, cut them and paste in small cardboard. The kaleidoscope was then displayed, I just needed to put the pattern at the other open end of the scope and revolve it myself. This way, I could now see how patterns move differently. My classmates were amazed on what I did, for it was their first time to see a kaleidoscope. Though I did not bag the prize, recalling this experience reminds me of many interesting facts I learned from this simple project. From the Greek words which mean "to view beautiful forms", the experience of viewing through a kaleidoscope is exactly true to its word origins. Beautiful patterns emerge, reflecting to all sides of mirrors. And what it makes more interesting is that, if patterns are made of small colorful beads or paper bits, one pattern will be formed only once. I read it from the encyclopedia that scientists tried to calculate if how long a specific single pattern will reappear, it would take more than 400 billion years! It was awesome and eerie at the same time, for the pattern I once saw won't anymore reappear in my lifetime.

This kaleidoscope thing has reminded me throughout the years. Whenever I meet new people or go to different places or learn a new knowledge, I always come to my senses that this very moment, no matter how seemingly normal, cannot anymore happen at exactly the same way. At times when I ride a jeepney, I reflect on how these patterns of life emerge, when I look around, each passenger I am riding with will never more sit on the same seat, dress the same clothes, or behave eccentrically the way they did right at that moment. Whenever I recall my experiences in the past, may it be academic life or adventure of sorts, I had always the reflection that the presence, the smiles, the laughters, the thoughts will never be exactly the same again. As I realize this in those moments, I have felt mixed emotions. I sometimes attach myself to these experiences that left good memories, and long for the friends I have made. In the long run, I end up grateful and frustrated at the same time. A friend once said "people come and people go" which is a very certain possibility. This taught me to wholeheartedly value people more, to pay attention to them and the situations where we meet and the moments that I cannot possibly freeze in time.

I once again saw a giant kaleidoscope at the Museong Pambata in Manila. It relived my childhood fantasy, of creating again of what I claim as my brainchild. It has a big revolving drum and large mirrors inside, and the patterns can be seen and revolved using a crank on one side. As I played around, I found myself in this very kaleidoscopic moment. I have made some wonderful friends at the poetry workshop I attended that time, and some delightful chances to explore my world, like the ones touring in a museum for kids. The experience of the moment became more palpable as the wisdom of kaleidoscope reminded me to savor this instant, which sooner would be part of ephemeral memories.


This past few weeks I had a series of meeting with my new friends, and we had conversations cum Communes. I have savored my simple walking meditations along the IRRI road in Los Baños seeing the majestic Makiling. I have watched fireflies again hovering over a small tree, a sight which I haven't seen for years. I have met people on the road as we greet each other, which I rarely experience. And I have never ever seen beauty this way before. It is very true that through this inner kaleidoscope, I can see beautiful patterns rearranging in this poignant movement of life. They may not appear again, but they will be forever part of what makes new colorful patterns come into sight. What makes life exciting is that every pattern is different; people, places and circumstances might be the same, but the shuffling of their presence and interconnections are totally different, and changing constantly every second, every minute. This uncertainty of patterns is what I always anticipate, as each small detail reflects the infinite beauty, where Love never fails to unfold.

Of all the songs I 've heard from the late master rapper Francis Magalona, only Kaleidoscope World resonates my spiritual insights. Differences and diversities, changes and vicissitudes, are all but part of this wonderful life. His song does not question why things appear differently; rather he used the kaleidoscope as a metaphor of acceptance, where each of us can view our lives and its myriad of possibilities without judgment. Because, as the song goes, every color and hue are us. Each being and becoming is my own being and becoming. And the moment I see the world as beautiful patterns, through my inner kaleidoscope called Love, beauty seems incalculably endless.

Insights from Water

I used to anticipate the rain every first week of May. After the long wait, I would sit down and meditate in the rain, feel the first droplets waiting to reach the dry summer ground. As the rain pours down, I begin to feel each cold droplet on my skin until I control the shiver over my body.It was always a very Zen feeling, as I tried to figure out how my awareness is struggling to focus among the raindrops, the coldness, and the thoughts that linger in my mind. However, it is quite strange to experience early storms in the middle of tropical summer, just a week before May comes. It seems that the weather is changing. Or is it the mind of the world changing? Change has been taking place. At one side, it brings discomfort; at the other, it brings insights.

I always tell myself that the rain and I are one. The series of rainy days has brought me again this very thought. Inevitably, the rain that I accept as I am is another word for water. It has been ironic that even I fear water as it shows vastness in its body, I deeply revere it when it comes back from the sky. Weather changes somehow awaken my consciousness on the reality of impermanence. Everything is changing. Like water, unpredictable. It brings fearful thoughts of being overwhelmed (like the Typhoon Milenyo's wrath), then dynamically moves into something that quenches my inner thirst.


As I watched a video clip on Wayne Dyer's Change Your Thought, Change Your Life, I couldn't help but notice how the stoic rock stands where whitewater cascades. This is the sight of the symbolic Yin and Yang, the symbol of balance and movement. So, in understanding that rock is Love, seeing water flowing between it has given me a very astounding insight.

After the rock, let's talk about the water.

A friend once said that it is so hard to Love all beings without exception. When she sends intention of Love to people, she stops dead on her tracks. She begins to get angry towards someone. This anger brings so much mental pain and suffering. So she excludes these difficult persons from her intentions. Although it is difficult, her struggles has turned my understanding from Love to equanimity. This breakthrough is clearly seeing that Love is formless, fluid, and flowing. And only water can perfectly embody these qualities.

We all know that water is always transforming, always encompassing. It can appear as solid like ice and gas like vapor. It is gentle as a dewdrop, calm as a puddle, vast as an ocean, fierce as a tsunami. Going beyond from form to form, water epitomizes how Love does the same.

As simple as being contained in different vessels, water takes different shapes. It becomes the shape of a glass or a pot or a jar. The vessels are emptiness existing in the depths of our being. It might be hatred, guilt, frustration, sadness, grudges, judgments, fear. Water is then poured, takes the shape of the empty anger and becomes harmony. It takes the shape of guilt and becomes freedom. It takes the shape of frustration and becomes hope. In sadness, it becomes joy; in grudges, it becomes goodwill; acceptance in judgment, Love in fear. The time comes when the pouring of water is so powerful, like a raging cascade, that the empty vessel will be then shattered. The force of the free flowing Love breaks all emptiness. Because an empty vessel can never contain this tremendous outpouring of Love.

Sometimes there are situations where people are so cold, so indifferent that we assume they lack Love, but think otherwise. For Love never leaves them, even how frigid their hearts might be. Love slows then, hardens and becomes ice, waiting for the right moment to thaw when right people are ready to send that warmth. There might also be a place when anger rules, so hot and so irritating that we think Love steams away. Do not worry, for Love sometimes evaporate, seemingly invisible but still just around in the space, waiting to cool down until it returns as nourishing droplets.


The river treading the path to the ocean is a nice metaphor from a friend. He views Love this way, flowing into the vastness. To swim against the tide is futile and to go with the flow is freedom. I might fear what kind of power Love can do, yet I trust this true nature of Love. This ocean is water that transforms from one shape, from one force, from one movement to the other. This is why Lao Tzu reminded us to become water. For water in its perfection clearly embodies what Love is and what it can do if we become Love.


There is a hidden message in water, and Japanese doctor Masaru Emoto has discovered it. Water responds when either thoughts of Love or fear is projected into it. With fear, as well as an array of negative thoughts, a water droplet forms ugly solid structure when frozen. With Love, together with all its positive vibrations, a water droplet forms beautiful water crystals. This discovery points out a substantial proof that the formless water can create beautiful forms, given that our deep potency of Love affects it. Emoto calls for our understanding of water. This world is made of 70% water. Our bodies contain almost the same amount. If we can just share Loving thoughts to others, then each of us having the living water within can be transformed into wonderful possibilities.

May the flowing, formless water reminds us the nourishing Love within.